A/N: I must admit, this has been a stressful week for me. The solace I find in writing has seemed very hard to come by. Somehow I managed. With the help of good friends who help me to laugh at myself.
Many thanks again to Gameson221b for your constancy and friendship.
Disclaimer: Sometimes I imagine...then I realize the truth: I am too broke, there's no way I own it, or I would be seeing some of the profits.
Thursday.
The dreams are back. Well...not dreams. Memories. Nightmares, really.
I was out on patrol with five other men. The first squad through was supposed to clear the area. The house was supposed to be empty.
We took gunfire as we approached. We returned fire and made our way inside for cover.
On the first floor, we passed the bodies of the squad that went before us.
One was still breathing. The others went on without looking back. I don't know if they even noticed. Maybe it was my instinct as a doctor, but I stopped to help him.
He was in a bad way...his face and right arm were burned. Close-contact. I didn't try to think of what caused it at the time.
The others kept calling for me. I didn't answer...there were eyes on me. Young eyes. The boy couldn't have been even twelve years old.
Next I knew I was blown into a stone wall, bits of the boy and the other fellow strewn about the place.
When I woke up...my guys were still calling for me.
My ears are still ringing from the blast.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this entry. We are entering into more of John's darker thoughts, the ones only glimpsed upon in the show. Please let me know what you think.
Thank you for reading. :)